My Immortal Quote
by Ayimil Taddy
Summary: Ebony. A seventeen-year-old who had found her love. Or should I say, loves. But they loved each other. How will this story play out? Will she ever find herself? A revamp story. Details inside. Rated M for Maybe-Mature content.
1. Prologue

My Immortal:

A revamp fanfiction. I read a really, really crappy fanfiction May 19, 2008 and decided, I can make this better. So, I have since then been making up a proper storyline(it barely even had that), semi-non OOC characters(I can't make everyone exactly like the Rowlings has them, I just don't have that talent), better English, better grammar and more details!

I refuse to say whose fanfiction this is a remake of, but I am completely sure to a few of you out there "no" exactly what I mean. Now, hopefully, the new storyline I make is good. I have no worries about being better then the original. I already know I am in the non-conceited way. I truly feel that my writing sucks, but her grammar and everything was just too horrible for words. Even the character is different. I am not even trying to claim anything here, really, but I am just showing how the fanfiction could have been better. Anyways, I would like it if there were no flames, but they are expected if anything. Please try to make them constructive, though. If flamers do that, I'll be sure not to call them "preppy". I laugh every time I hear that now.

Disclaimer: It's mine I tell you! **_Mine_**!! ...

Really, if it was mine, I so would not be writing in fanfiction...Actually, I would, but that is totally not the point. Here is the point. This is a Harry Potter **fanfiction**. I lay no claim to the characters, storyline in the books and all that mumbo-jumbo.

On to the reVAMP!

Prologue:

Ebony. That is what they all call me. My hair is the same as the definition. A deep, lustrous black. I started Hogwarts when I was eleven years old, like every other witch and wizard in England. But I was never like them. Even the Slytherins, the house I was sorted into, find me strange and foreboding.

I understand a lot. Many people would never think that, though. I'm not what you would call a goth. I like black, but not as a color. To me, it is a symbol for everything. In the prism, it is all colors, none left out. I like that idea, so I wear it. It makes me feel like I can connect to others and not float off alone. The dark arts also interest me, as it does every other Slytherin. The house isn't that bad of a place to be in. Really, it isn't. I even look up to Professor Snape. Now that is saying something.

But, there are times when I just have to be alone. During those times, I cut thin lines up and down my arms. Every time, I feel the tender, sweet pain as the blade cuts through my arm and I watch myself bleed. I have no mental pain that I can't stand. I have no real reason to do such things. The only thing I could possibly think of would be the pleasure I get out of cutting. The sweet slice of the blade on my skin. The blood seeping out of the thin wound. Each drop of blood, filled with enough power to save a life. That is what I feel. That is what I know. I do my best thinking then. Now that I think about it, I guess one could call me a masochist. I just like the pain of it.

I come from an ancient pure blood family. We have a lot of money and power in both the wizarding and muggle world. Or should I say, we could. We are one of the very few families who have never shown a care for either: muggles and wizards could destroy themselves for all they could care. I took after the family trait for a while. Until my second year.

I met him the day he was sorted in. Well, I met the both of them. It was the beginning of my second year. I thought nothing of either of them at the time. Staying true to the Demonata name. They were sorted. One to Gryffindor. The other to Slytherin. The blond boy sat down next to me with his friends. Back then, he ignored me and I ignored him.


	2. Chapter 1: Quidditch

Chapter 1: Quidditch

If I had to say when this all started, I would have to say it began long ago. Way back to when there was a boy just barely one year old. When that night he lost his parents while he still lived. If that never happened, I believe everything would have been different. If the good would have prevailed or evil would have instead. Those are things I cannot know. No one could. Not even that almighty god that a few beings believe in. The might have beens must stay exactly that. Might have been. No "ifs", "ands", or "buts". The world is the way it is and I kind of like it that way. Even though it turned out badly for me.

My story would be way too long if I started back there. So, I will just start at the beginning of my fifth year. Their fourth year. It started out like every year. I get on the train. I hang out with my friends. We all change into our uniforms. We get off the train and go to school in the carriages. We sit down at our house tables. Another group of first years get sorted in. That whole repetitive thing. It gets really old after just two years of it.

The only thing different that year was the fact that he began to look more like a man. He was beginning to grow up. Physically at least. Even now, I still think his attitude was a little immature. He always kept his hair short thankfully. No matter how much I love him now, had he ever let his hair grow long, I would never, ever have given him a second glance. Long hair on guys to me is just a major cry for a pair of scissors. Heh. That is one of the few things I ever hated about Professor Snape. And the fact he never took a shower.

Anyways, as he was growing up, physically, I began hunting so to speak. Every girl does it when they become of age or are ready. He was just one of the very few who had caught my eyes. Yes, eyes. I have two, you know. I am not making it one just for the sake of a saying. The days began going by when I started to realize, I was looking forward to the times I got to sit next to him. I had never talked to him until a month into that year.

As we all know, he was on the Slytherin Quidditch team as the seeker. That year Peeves played a very hard prank on all of the teams. It had involved a stolen wand, the _confundo_ spell, and a very bad mispronunciation. Instead of saying _confundo_, Peeves ended up saying _confringo_. In short, it left the Slytherin Quidditch team one player too short. They had to find someone quickly because of the first Quidditch game that was coming up. A game between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. The team did **NOT** want to lose to them.

Since the one who had the misfortune of having Peeves make the best special treat for them was Kevin(Miles) Bletchley, the team held tryouts for keeper a week before the big game. I never planed to tryout. Quidditch had never been something I was interested in. In fact, before then, the only thing I truly was interested in was singing. Granted, I was not the most amazing singer in the world, not even close to Myron Wagtail in the group **Weird Sisters**. I was at least better than a lot of people. Passion is the key, too. I had passion. When a person wants to become a singer, they are either in it for the money and fame, or for the power to influence and show ideas. Many can go in the business for both, but I only wanted one. The power to influence. I already had the money from my family line. I had ideas about the way the world should be. I had sure ways to improve everything, but I needed to get the power to do something about it. And for people to listen. Hm. Well, it turns out, only a handful of people were ever able to hear me and understand. But that handful has made all the difference. Yes. I took the one less traveled by. If anyone reads that line and knows where it is from and what it means, knows exactly what I mean. What made me tryout, then? One could say it had been a girlfriend of mine talked me into it. Or one could say it was my love. In truth, I will never say. I will only say that I had tried out just because.

The day of tryouts was a sunny day. Peeves was being forced to behave himself or else face being "permanently put out in the most painful manner imaginable" in Professor McGonagall's exact words. Therefore, there were no "accidents" or bad smells going around the school. Well, there was a bad smell coming from Professor Snape's Potions room, but that one was because of a stupid first year Hufflepuff. Never did like any Hufflepuffs in all of my seven years at Hogwarts. Anyways, there were plenty of Slytherins wanting to try out. Over half of them were turned away at sight. The ones turned down either were terrible on a broom or the team just hated them. I like to think that everyone else just sucked at flying. A few of my fellow peers and I were the only ones left after just ten minutes.

Marcus Flint stepped forward, scowling. He looked the six of us over with a tint of disappointment. We were standing in a semi-straight line with no real order to why we were standing there. Next to me on my right was Malcolm Baddock. Next to him was Kelly(K.) Bundy who looked more interested in the Slytherin girls who came to watch the tryouts. To the right of her stood Josh(J.) Dorny. I know, I know. Who would ever even think of having **him** on their team, but I did not care to argue it at the time. His nickname was G.A.B. for a reason. On the other side of me were the more likely candidates. Theodore Nott and Conrad(C.) Warrington.

I had seen them at work before. It was during the break between my third and forth year at Hogwarts. I traveled around everyday because staying in my family's place was close in the running of hell. I mean that, too. Any given day of the year or season, 106 degrees throughout the house. And that's just in Celsius! I think we almost killed our house elf that way once. Let's just say I got very good at _Aguamenti._ Anyway, I went past some wizard houses that had a mini Quidditch pitch in their backyards. Theodore and Conrad were playing the keepers then too.

* * *

AN: I am leaving the Quidditch team members the same as from the beginning of the series, ok? I know there are members that would have graduated Hogwarts by Harry's forth year, but I don't want to bother making new people. Also, I made up names for people with just a letter for their first name. I don't know if they were really slytherin or not, but they were in the books, so I used their names.

I wanted this chapter to be a lot longer, but I haven't been working on it. So, I think I'm just going to stick with this. Something is better than nothing. I'm starting to believe that I work better with drabbles. I just haven't posted anything in a while, so I'll just do this now and start making "drables" of my stories. This way, the chapters are short, but there will be more of them and I just might be able to get things done.


End file.
